Chronicle journalist Richard Irvine was on holiday in New York when terrorists brought death and destruction to the city.

Here Richard, 26, of Steele Street, Chester, gives an eyewitness account of the horrific events as the twin towers of the World Trade Center collapsed and a description of how the American people have been coming to terms with the full horror of the disaster.

THE high-pitched shriek of sirens punctuated morning conversation in a mid-town hotel.

Not an uncommon sound, even after only two days in New York City but the constant drone of the emergency vehicles just wasn't stopping.

Everything became clear when my brother and I stepped on to the street outside the hotel at 9am and saw the towers of the World Trade Center on fire.

At this time it was a fire in the twin towers, not a terrorist attack.

So, blessed with ignorance, we grabbed our cameras and headed over to the nearest vantage point, The Empire State Building.

On the way people shouted into phones and crowded out of offices to get a view of the blazing towers. Cars pulled over and people gathered to hear the latest on the 20,000 people trapped.

Only now did we find out it was a terrorist attack. Then news filtered through that the Pentagon in Washington had been destroyed and the Sears building in Chicago was ablaze, both incorrect.

When we got to the Empire State Building, all anybody knew was America was under attack and Manhattan was a prime target. Security guards were screaming at us to get back and stay away from the building. All major landmarks were now under threat and being evacuated.

Unfortunately we were under what was thought to be the next target. So we picked up the pace and headed down Fifth Avenue to see what was happening there.

The magnitude of the situation started to sink in as we got closer and people were asking each other about evacuations and lost relatives.

We could also see what looked like debris flying from windows but this later turned out to be people jumping from 40 storeys up to escape the flames.

Then people screamed and started running away from the towers. When we looked up, one of the towers loaded with people waiting to escape was falling out of the sky.

Papers, dust and debris mushroomed across the financial heart of the world's most powerful nation.

Americans, usually equipped with a sense of drama, were numbed into silence as the unthinkable happened.

Just the sound of people screaming in anguish and one man shouting how he'd go back to war to kill those who'd destroyed his city could be heard.

After what seemed like only a minute or two when we had walked several blocks down, the second tower collapsed, confirming the idea that nothing is improbable.

I felt sick and sweat prickled my brow. This giant structure came down like a house of glass. In that instant, 50,000 people lost a place to work, thousands of lives were lost and for many the city they loved was being destroyed.

Fifth Avenue was silent, then the pace of life started up. Police cars, fire trucks and ambulances screamed past. People started to run from the disaster site. Men and women sobbing, their faces etched with a look of icy detachment, passed by. Police yelled at us to move further uptown.

This time we weren't taking any chances as the air filled with smoke and dust.

We headed back to the hotel and watched from the air-conditioned safety wondering what the next target might be.

All phone lines were down. All methods of transport were closed. The roads were now empty. Only emergency traffic made its way through the streets as New York went on full terrorist alert.

A small trickle of people made the long walk home.

We made it out of the hotel when the pandemonium was dying down for a meal in a local bistro.

Surrounded by Wall Street powerbrokers who had ventured out of their neighbourhood to drown their sorrows, it was strange to see men who control markets and currency in a state of anxiety as they worried not about money but the loss of life.

And now we wait, trapped in a city protected by jets flying overhead and battleships in the harbour, for a flight to go home.